


never have i ever

by ordanary



Series: Against London [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Resolved Argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16015187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordanary/pseuds/ordanary
Summary: Dan’s never felt more conflicted about a kiss before, and especially one that hasn't even happened yet. So really, he can’t even begin to prepare himself for how he’ll feel after the show.





	never have i ever

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last part of the pre-planned against london series, so make sure you’ve read part one and part two first !! 
> 
> I know this is hella late, but I’ve been putting off writing this for as long as I could just because I was so reluctant to let go of this series. You watch, I’ll probably end up writing some type of part four within the next month. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy !!

As much as Dan would’ve loved to deny it and pretend everything was perfectly fine, the intense arguments and rude glares exchanged between him and Phil had only escalated since soundcheck. 

With whatever terrible mood he was in, Phil had begun to drag Pj and Chris into the middle, too, scowling at them when things didn’t go his way and staying completely silent other than to growl an insult at Dan whenever he pleased.

Pj had tried to talk to the guitarist quite a few times over the last hours, but with no real positive outcome. When he’d asked why Phil was so mad at Dan –whose ear was unashamedly pressed against the thick blackout curtain separating him and the two boys on the other side– he’d gone even more silent than usual, staying that way until he pushed through the curtains a few moments later, unknowing that he’d also knock Dan onto the floor in the process. 

Dan could’ve sworn he’d seen a look of guilt and perhaps even sympathy wash over Phil face for just a moment before quickly disappearing as he continued to walk past him, towards the lounge. 

“You alright?” Pj asked upon seeing him still on the ground. 

Dan stood up, swiping the dust from his jeans and looking off in the direction that Phil had migrated towards, the hurt in his chest aching with each moment separating them in whatever the fuck this stupid fight was over. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did he say?” Dan questioned the singer, switching his attention fully to him. 

“Basically that it’s none of my business, and that he just wants to be left alone,” said Pj. “I don’t know, Dan. Maybe he really is just in a bad mood and it has nothing to do with you.” 

Dan thought about that for hours afterwards– about the possibility that Phil was just going through something hard and was taking it out on Dan as a result. 

Even though he knew it would be terribly unfair to himself if that were the case, Dan dedicated most of his afternoon to making up countless scenarios in his head where Phil wasn’t quite the bad guy, after all. 

Maybe his dog had died and his mum had called to let him know this morning and Dan’s comment had been just enough to push him off the edge. Maybe the girl he liked had turned him down and the idea of kissing Dan instead of her was filling him with sadness and anger. Maybe– but it was really no use. He could justify it all he wanted, but the harsh reality was that Phil didn’t want to talk to him right now other than to yell at him, and even though he’d acted all tough during soundcheck, he really couldn’t stand another verbal beating like that from someone he’d trusted so much as to call his best friend. 

When it was dinner time and the four band members plus a few members of their stage crew and tour team were huddled tightly around two picnic tables they’d found right outside their bus and pushed together, it wasn’t exactly a shock when Phil sat on the other end of the table minding his own business. 

It had come to a point where pretty much everyone on their team knew he wasn’t in the mood to talk or joke around like usual, and those who didn’t know would learn soon enough. He certainly wasn’t snappy or rude to anyone but Dan, it seemed, but he wasn’t afraid to give anyone else the silent treatment, blue eyes focused on his food instead of his peers’ eyes. 

With so much anxiety and pent up emotion in Dan’s system already, he didn’t really feel up for eating, at all. He was afraid that the nerves combined with an actual meal might make his stomach turn inside out, and the thought alone left him a bit green. 

He couldn’t believe he was still going to have to perform in front of thousands tonight, their first show with such a large audience, in fact. At least that meant he could pass off his greenness as stage jitters if anyone noticed. Yes, that would work– he’d be fine. 

When dinner was done with and everyone was huddling around garbage bags to throw away their paper plates and leftover food, Dan disposing of his mostly empty one, he felt something, an elbow, bump roughly into his ribs, the pain causing him to release a high pitched yelp before he looked up and saw it was in fact Phil’s elbow.

Dan didn’t want to fight, he just didn’t have it in him anymore. He wasn’t sure if that’s what Phil wanted. Hell, maybe he wanted Dan to yell and scream at him and beat his fists against his chest, but he couldn’t. He was just too worn down. Today had been exhausting, and he’d already yelled more than he normally would in an entire year. He just wanted to rest, and think, and maybe cry just a little. 

He didn’t even notice the tears welling up in his eyes, about to spill over, until one rolled down the curve of his cheek, eyes pleading with Phil to just stop. Just stop.

Before he could give him the chance though, mostly knowing that he wouldn’t take it anyway, Dan was walking off in the direction of the bus, swiping at his eyes with his fingers and powering through the sparse group of crew members until he was eventually sitting on his own bunk, legs hanging down over the one beneath him and swinging back and forth as an attempt to distract himself from the painful beating of his heart. 

A few minutes later and Chris and Pj were pushing through the curtains, dragging behind them a clearly reluctant Phil with a scowl on his face that didn’t quite match the subtle apology in his ocean eyes. 

“He wants to say sorry,” Pj spoke, his tone even and sounding more pissed off than he’d been on stage. 

Dan scoffed, turning his head to the side so he didn’t have to look at them anymore.

Pj turned to Phil, shooting daggers so intense with his eyes that Phil had no choice but to give in. “Apologise,” Peej prompted, harsher this time. 

Keeping his body still and his gaze fixed on the bunk across from his, Dan watched from the corner of his eye as Phil sighed, stepping forward until his chest was pressed against the thin railing of Dan’s top bunk, hands wrapped around the cool metal bars as he seemed to be pondering what to say. 

“I’m sorry I fucked us all up today,” he spoke, looking up at Dan with meaning behind his eyes. However, Dan didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to accept that Phil expected to be able to be so terrible to him and then fix it all with eight small words. 

He didn’t respond. 

“Not sure if you’re gonna be able to forgive me, ‘cause I’ve been a real dick for no reason, but I’d really like it if you’d accept my apology,” he tried, using those stupid eyes and that stupid voice and those stupid fingers to brush against the side of his thigh lightly, but just enough to make Dan’s skin involuntary jump. He didn’t wanna give in to the man he couldn’t ever seem to stop giving himself into. 

“Dan?” Pj asked tentatively, clearly wanting him to accept the apology. 

Dan wiped any remaining tears from his face with the backs of his hands, shaking his head. “Can you guys go?” He asked the other two boys, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I need to talk to Phil alone for a bit.”

When all but Dan and Phil were gone, the area was silent for a few moments, both of them trying to figure out the right thing to say. 

“I really am sorry–“

“Shut up.” Phil did as asked. “Can you give me a reason? I want to be able to justify the way you’ve been today, but ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t working for me right now.”

Phil paused, looking down to his feet. “It’s just a personal thing, I can’t tell you, Dan.”

“That's not fair, though, Phil! You’ve treated me like shit all day and I just want a fucking answer as to why!” Dan’s voice had raised since he’d first started talking lowly, the tears returning briefly before he swallowed down the lump of emotion in his throat. 

“I know, I know,” Phil whispered, his hand rubbing circles into that same small patch at the side of Dan’s thigh. As much as he wanted Phil to keep doing so, the feeling familiar and dare he say comforting, he needed him to stop. Otherwise he may just give in and forgive Phil, and he needed to be stronger than that. He’d forgive him when he actually had a valid reason to be mad, Dan decided. 

The latter reached down shakily and pushed Phil’s hand away, shaking his head and still swinging his feet in attempt to distract himself. “No,” he mumbled. “I’ll forgive you when you give me a good reason to, but for now I’m still fucking mad, okay? You know I love you just as much as I love the other guys, but today was too much. Let’s just– let’s just get through this show and then we’ll talk more,” he proposed, begging with chocolate brown eyes for Phil to agree and sighing in relief when he nodded. 

“Okay.”

—

It’d been an hour since their talk in the bunks, when they’d decided to retouch on the subject of Phil bitchiness after the show. They were getting ready to go on stage, having less than five minutes left before their presence would be needed. 

Dan could still hear the crowd roaring and hollering excitedly about their opening act, a smaller Canadian band called Up Below that everyone seemed to be really enjoying. As the time grew closer to their portion of the show, the cheers morphed from an unintelligible buzz to a clear chanting of ‘Against London’ over and over again until Dan was beginning to feel like himself once more. He was finally able to bury himself in his stage mindset, the persona and state he’d created for himself years ago when being ‘just Dan’ on stage wasn’t enough. 

When it came time for their usual group hug, Chris and Pj seemed to deliberately squish together in a way that meant Dan and Phil were most definitely going to be smushed up against each other, a concept that Dan wasn’t all too fond of at the moment. 

As they all wrapped arms around each other and pushed forward until there was no more room to move, Dan felt Phil’s arm tense around him. He wasn’t surprised really, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still hurt. He just needed to keep reminding himself that he couldn’t give into forgiveness so easily. He needed to be careful, at least until after the show. 

“You guys ready?” One of the stage crew members asked with impatience behind his gravelly voice. 

“Yeah,” Phil answered for them all, nodding to the man. 

Within mere seconds they were all being pushed in different directions, having guitars, basses, wireless mics, and drumsticks all thrust into their open hands, hanging heavy straps over their shoulders and thick picks in their sweaty palms. 

Chris was the first to go out– he always was. The fans always cheered and screamed his name, begging for him to throw one of his drumsticks regardless of just having come on stage. 

The hollering and hooting was even louder with tonight’s larger crowd. Part of it made Dan feel nervous, but he mostly felt excited. He couldn’t wait for the adrenaline to kick in, for Stage Dan to take over his every being just so Real Dan wouldn't have to think so hard about everything that could possibly go wrong. 

He bounced his leg impatiently, asking Alyssa how much time was left before he could finally go out on stage and let go of all the tenseness in his shoulders and neck.

“Thirty seconds,” Alyssa said before smoothing down the wrinkles in Dan’s shirt and checking his guitar strap one last time. 

Dan counted down in his head, tapping his foot in time with the passing seconds until there were none left and Alyssa was nudging him out onto the stage– and then he was exposed again, on full show for all of their crowd to see. 

Chris was still drumming the intro to their opening song, Phil’s guitar soon joining in along with Pj’s sickly sweet vocals. Dan waited for the forty six second mark before starting up the rather heavy bass line as the pace gradually picked up, Pj singing louder until they all broke out into the chorus, wild drums and steady bass melting together with the whine of their electric guitarist’s own unique sound. 

Everything was going perfectly so far in terms of technicalities. Dan hadn’t stumbled once, in fact he was jumping and moving around like he fucking owned the place. If any of them knew a thing about Against London’s stage presence, it was that absolutely no one in the group could be considered a dull performer, not in the least bit. 

After a few songs, Dan could vividly feel the electricity in his fingertips, his heart beating alongside his own bass line. He closed his eyes for a few quick moments, letting the sound of their fans singing along with Pj bring him home. 

When he reopened them, their current song was almost over, and anything wrong that’d happened today was nearly absent from his mind. 

But then it was time for Phil and Pj to talk for a little while, and at seeing the way Phil moved so easily and confidently, the way he greeted the audience with his booming voice and larger than life persona, Dan wondered how he did it. 

Sure, he had somehow almost managed to forget for a moment why he’d ever have any reason to be upset, himself, but Phil was acting as though there wasn’t a single thing to worry about in the entire world– like everything was okay. Dan wanted to know how he could do that, too.

“Hey, Toronto,” Phil greeted the crowd, the other band members including Dan all giving little waves of their hands. “How are you guys tonight?” 

The crowd roared, hands flying in the air as though they were trying to catch Phil’s words in their sweaty palms. 

“So in case you’re only here because your weird cousin, Brenda, dragged you along, you should probably know that we’re Against London, and we’ve come all the way from rainy ol’ England to play some music for you guys!”

A similar reaction as the last time erupted from before them, one particularly loud voice screaming something along the lines of “Marry me, Dan!”, to which the bassist laughed, his dimples surely on show. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Said Phil. “I said we’re gonna play music, not marry off our bandmates!” Everyone laughed again, even Dan. For Phil’s sake, he really did hope that his explanation after the show would be forgivable. He really liked laughing with him. 

The show continued on for quite some time, the four of them playing another twenty minutes before it was time to take another talking break, during which time Dan nearly fell off the stage or tripped over a floor speaker a total of three times, which was mostly a new record for him, seeing as he usually wasn’t the clumsy one. 

Maybe it was the stress and anxiety of knowing how let down a certain portion of the crowd would be once they realized that the kiss wasn’t a go anymore. Would they be disappointed? Would they blame Dan? He wasn’t sure, so he tried his best to laugh off any mistakes with bright eyes and keep himself busy throwing a few pics while Pj started up their newest topic of banter, first complimenting the crowd and telling them just how wonderful and magical they all were, which was part of the routine, but not a lie. 

“I really like Canada so far, it’s really scenic and your coffee is good,” spoke Pj, placing his hands on his hips. “Maybe I’ll just have to move here when the tour’s over, what do you think?”

Everyone cheered so loudly Dan wondered if the rest of Toronto could hear their noise from across the lake. 

“Sorry to break it to you, Peej, but you wouldn’t sell your flat even if I paid you. You’re too attached.”

He was right and they all knew it, too. 

Dan managed to zone out for a few minutes, fiddling with the strap of his guitar and smiling blindly out at the thousands before him. This was by far the biggest show they’d ever played, but Dan wasn’t really anywhere near as terrified as he’d thought he’d be. He stayed silent and irrelevant for a little while longer, and then he heard his name in a familiar voice, snapping his head to the side to look at Phil. 

“-and like I said a few days ago, we can’t just give up on a dare, can we?” 

Oh fuck. Phil was really going to do this, wasn’t he? He was going to kiss Dan in front of thousands of cheering fans when they weren’t even on the best of terms offstage. 

“So, if Dan’s cool with it, I think we should get this particular dare over with,” Phil announced, his stage persona clearly proving its dominance as he went, though Dan could hear the little bit of uncertainty in his voice, the same uncertainty Dan’s own voice would hold had be been the one talking. 

The bassist moved left until he was standing at Pj’s mic stand, leaning forward to answer Phil’s question and trying his best to cover any shakes in his voice. “A dare is a dare.”

Pj took over the role of speaking while Dan moved towards Phil, his steps reluctant and careful as to not stumble. When he was stood only a meter or so before the black haired man, who was at the time handing his guitar off to a member of stage crew, Dan pushed his bass around the strap until it was upside down against his back, not wanting to get it caught uncomfortably between them. This was already going to be awkward enough, he didn’t need anymore prompting. 

“So I suggest everyone gets out their phones to film this and spread it around the internet as blackmail, ‘cause that’s definitely what I’m gonna do,” joked Pj.

Phil laughed, shaking his head. “Right, and you can send those videos to him at kickthepj@gmail.com.” 

Dan would’ve loved to inject his own words into the banter, he normally would, but he was instead stood absolutely frozen on the stage a few feet away from Phil, his mind blank except for his inner dialogue, which was more of a battle between ‘get it over with’ and ‘run away’. 

And then Phil was walking forward, eyes fixed on Dan in an apologetic way, and he was moving his hand to cup Dan’s jaw. His thumb smoothed over the bassist’s cheek and Dan felt his heart’s pace quicken. 

The crowd was cheering louder than any of them would have imagined, some yelling a chorus of ‘kiss him’ over and over again until Phil was complying, tilting his head a bit to the side and fitting his lips against Dan’s. The latter dropped his hands to his sides before eventually moving them back up to wrap around Phil’s neck, who in turn wrapped his own around Dan’s waist, slipping between his bass and lower back. 

Dan couldn’t describe how he felt, the way his brain was flitting between panic and comfort before finally going blank in the name of bliss. He wasn’t focusing on anything other than the sweet taste and feel of Phil’s slightly chapped lips, the security of his arms on Dan’s waist, pulling him in deeper until he was completely pressed against him. He’d never been more thankful in his life that Phil didn’t have his guitar hung over his shoulder, that there was nothing separating him from the man he’d fancied ever since they’d met, the man he’d been told he’d never have. 

And he didn’t expect to have him, didn’t expect this to lead to anywhere but a funny story a few weeks from now. He just hoped that he could forgive Phil for whatever the earlier part of today had been, because being cross with him was a fucking pain that he was sure neither wanted to endure any longer. 

They broke apart unwillingly to the sound of Pj loudly clearing his throat into his mic, facing the two red faced men with crossed arms and a devilish smirk. “We do have a show to get back to, you know,” he said before turning to the audience. “Now if only they were this nice to each other offstage, too.”

Chris pulled his mic closer to his mouth, laughing. “Well they might be after this, who knows?”

The crowd erupted into laughter, Dan unable to keep from chuckling as well while Phil leaned in closer to Dan’s head again, whispering into his ear in a way that made his heart warm. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly before turning around and walking back towards his own mic stand, Dan taking off towards stage right and flipping his bass back onto his front. 

“Nah,” announced Phil as a response to Chris’s comment. “As long as I continue to steal his cereal he won’t be nice to me anytime soon.”

Dan grinned to himself as he focused on tuning his bass to drop D for their next song. He could still taste Phil on his lips, still feel his own lips mourning the loss of contact. 

He didn’t hear the rest of his bandmates’ conversation after the subject matter shifted from him to something else, only listening again as Pj excitedly announced the title of their next song, one which was an older ballad from their first album.

—

When the show was over and everyone was heading offstage to go cool down in the tour bus, Dan excused himself while grabbing a bottle of water and standing awkwardly in the lounge. 

“There’s a spot by the lake behind the stage that looked really quiet, so I’m gonna go sit there,” he informed the other three who were busy guzzling some form of liquid as per usual. 

“Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower in one of the buildings,” said Chris, gathering his things quickly before heading out. 

Pj sighed. “I guess it’s just you and me, then, Phil.”

Dan gave the aforementioned a pleading look, begging for him to come with. They still needed to talk, and even more so after what had just happened on stage not an hour ago. 

Seeming to get the message, Phil patted Pj’s shoulder awkwardly. “I think I’m actually gonna go with Dan, sorry Peej.”

After both changing into cleaner and less sweat stained shirts, the two headed away from the bus, smiling and making short small talk every once in a while with passing stage crew and management members as they went. 

Dan led Phil to the spot he’d been talking about earlier, which was even less crowded than they’d originally anticipated, the majority of people around having left for somewhere cooler, even though it was plenty cool by the lake. 

They sat down side by side on a large and jutting rock, their hands resting only centimetres away and itching to eliminate even that small space. Well, at least Dan’s were. He still didn’t know how Phil felt. 

“Did it mean anything to you?” Phil asked after a few silent minutes, his eyes fixed on the black waters below them. 

Dan shook his head. “I’m not telling you anything until your explain today,” he decided aloud, reluctantly placing his hands in his lap as if to avoid them inching to the side and resting against Phil’s. 

“I can’t even explain until you answer,” spoke Phil, looking up at Dan. 

The aforementioned gaped at him, eyes pleading him to not make Dan answer that question. Option ‘A’ was that he told Phil just how much it meant to him and in turn risked Phil laughing right in his face, and option ‘B’ meant saying no and living with suppressed feelings until the band was done with and he was forced to say goodbye to Phil forever. He didn’t want either of those things, and he was really hoping Phil could see that in his begging eyes. He didn’t want to have to choose between safety and the truth. 

Phil seemed to understand how difficult it was for Dan to answer his question, shaking his head and looking back down at the lake. 

“Let me rephrase this, then. Did it mean as much to you as it meant to me, Dan?”

His eyes widened, searching Phil’s downcast ones for any hint of what the hell he meant by that. Was he admitting to having feelings for Dan? 

“Phil . . .” Dan whispered lowly. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

Surely not what he thought it did. 

“It’s supposed to mean that I really like you as more than a friend, and I know what Pj said, but I’d like to hear it from you,” explained Phil quickly, his eyes flitting back and forth between the speechless bassist beside him and the palms of his hands. 

Dan really was robbed of all words, nothing leaving his mouth at first save for his own uneasy breaths. 

When he finally found himself able to respond, it came as a question again instead of an answer. “Wait–“ he paused. “What did Pj say?” He asked, confused. He really had absolutely no idea what the guitarist was going on about, had no hint of a clue what Pj had said that would suggest anything other than Dan having been head over heels for him for the past five years. 

“We were talking yesterday and Peej told me you’d said the kiss wouldn’t mean anything to you, and I’d thought you liked me so it made me kind of . . . Upset, I guess. It’s not an excuse, I know, but that’s why I was acting like such a douchebag earlier. I let my feelings get the better of me, I guess.” 

Dan laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “You can be a real idiot sometimes, you know that?” Phil nodded as Dan continued. “Of course the kiss meant as much to me as it meant to you. It probably meant even more to me, because I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve practically been in love with you ever since our first band rehearsal, Phil,” he whined, pleading with his chocolate eyes for Phil to understand him, to know that he should’ve ignored Pj and listened to his gut. Phil had known about Dan liking him, and maybe it was because he was just so bad at hiding his staring and blushing that everyone on planet earth was able to see it. So why hadn’t Phil trusted that? 

If he hadn’t had been so damn riled up, he might’ve been freaking out over everything Phil was telling him, but he honestly was just so physically and mentally exhausted that he needed this to be neatly wrapped up and tucked away somewhere safe for the morning so that neither of them would have to go to bed with unanswered questions. 

“I’m practically in love with you, too,” Phil offered into the silence, lifting his head to look at Dan. “And I’m really sorry for being a dick today. You don’t deserve that.”

Instead of responding verbally, Dan nodded before gently bumping his shoulder into Phil’s, hoping that the latter understood his forgiveness. 

The silence that followed held a weight to it that couldn’t exactly be described as uncomfortable, though it also didn’t make either of them feel completely satisfied with where they’d left off. 

“So then where do we go from here?” Asked Dan quietly, fixing his gaze back into the dark abyss of lake before them. 

Phil was quiet for a little while, seeming to be thinking the same thing. “I could take you on a date, if you’re interested,” he proposed, nervousness clear as day in his voice. 

Dan thought he was so silly for having any doubt that he’d want to go on an actual date with Phil. He’d been dreaming about it since day one, learning to live with the disappointment that it would never happen and doing his absolute best to conceal any unrequited feelings. 

“Of course I’m interested.”

Phil breathed a sigh, laughing a bit. “Okay.”

The silence didn’t seem so heavy anymore, most of Dan’s questions having been answered and his mood now lifted. He was smiling wide, his lips feeling like they might split if he were any happier. 

“Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you again?”

Dan blushed, nodding. “Yeah, please.”

This time when Phil pressed his lips to Dan’s, the warmth that radiated between them didn’t feel so electric, so charged and magnetic. Maybe it was because the element of thousands of screaming fans had been eliminated, but nevertheless it didn’t make a difference on the effect it had on Dan. 

This kiss felt calmer, far more steady and promising than the last. Phil was warm, from the tips of his fingers splayed in his hair to the press of his moving lips to Dan’s own, he was so, so warm. Dan could drown in that feeling, he thought. He’d gladly let Phil steal all the air from his lungs and claim it as his own. 

He wanted to give everything to Phil.

Pulling away was hard, but breathing was necessary, and they both might’ve forgotten how to do that had it not been for the sudden gentle falling of raindrops on their skin. 

“I think it’s raining,” remarked Dan, resting his forehead against Phil’s as he smiled calmly. 

“It is.”

Phil helped pull Dan to his feet on the rock, being careful not to let either of them slip on the now wet stone beneath their feet. As they were both steady and moving away from the lake, Dan took a leap and reconnected their hands, clasping them together tightly as Phil responded with the same enthusiasm. 

The rain was starting to drop down quicker and with more weight, plastering Dan’s hair to his forehead though he couldn’t give less of a damn if he tried. Today had started out like absolute shit, but god, he was so damn happy right now. 

“We could dance in the rain if we wanted to,” Phil proposed, pulling Dan a little closer to his body. 

The bassist soaked up his body heat gratefully as the two sped up their pace towards the tour bus, humming. “Or, we could go sit in the bus and watch Disney movies where it’s warm,” he suggested. 

Phil laughed, leaning his head in to place a kiss to Dan’s soaked forehead. “Yeah, okay.”

“I win?” Asked Dan, giggling as he looked up at Phil with his big, brown eyes. 

Even Phil’s smile radiated warmth as he nodded. “You always win.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading !! Maybe reblog on tumblr (@ordanary) ?? As always, kudos and comments are super appreciated !! Have a lovely day <3


End file.
